Her Secret Dom (9 page)

When Pam went limp, Jared pulled out and freed her from the scarves and blindfold. He strolled to the bathroom and soon returned with a washcloth. After turning her over, he washed the stickiness between her legs with great care. He tossed the cloth aside, then massaged her wrists. Upon removing her FM shoes, he kissed a sore spot on her left pinky toe. Finally, he climbed into bed and held her with a rumble of repletion. Her last sensation before drifting off to sleep was of Jared’s hands caressing her body and his muscled chest guarding her back.

* * * *

Jared lay in the dark, listening to Pam’s steady breathing. When her sweet puffs turned into dainty snores, he smothered a huff of laughter. She’d once asked him if she snored, and he outright lied, swearing she slept like a proper lady. She’d looked so relieved he silently vowed never to mention she also talked in her sleep.

She shivered, then wiggled into the circle of his arms. Her sigh of contentment reached his ears. He tucked her head under his chin and reflected on recent events.

Even now, he couldn’t believe this beautiful creature had chosen him above all others to be her first lover. Although a bit repressed and shy, she had shown him an unbridled passion he’d hoped to see but hadn’t dared to expect.

Little by little, she was unraveling.

Then she’d given him the greatest gift imaginable. Her trust. Not only with her body. Tonight, she’d disclosed to him her secret desires, and her need for submission.

It had taken a true leap of faith for her to bare her soul like that.

Did he, a seasoned warrior, possess such courage?

Yes, he decided as the sweet tugs of slumber pulled him under. Soon, he would tell her everything, no matter what the cost…

* * * *

The mournful keening rent the sultry night. He watched in despair as the old man crouched over the small body as if to shield her from further harm. Reaching out, he shook the man’s arm in a silent request. The elder complied and shifted the limp body in his arms to show the damage. Long black spirals of hair parted to reveal the ashen tone of her skin, the ghastly pallor of her face a stark contrast to the crimson trail trickling over the rounded cheek.

A little scarlet pool formed on the dusty ground under her head.

Another bloodied innocent.

The rest of the unit rushed toward their fallen comrade, who lay a few feet away, thrashing in agony. They wrapped his torn leg and prepared for evacuation as he pleaded for his mother and for death.

Soon, they turned to him, their leader.

Should we go?

He glanced at the older man, who now stood with the tiny bundle in his arms. Answering his unspoken question, the elder whispered low, “Get out while you can.”

A distant murmur caught everyone’s attention. Soon, the murmurs turned into angry rumbles and shouts.

“Retreat!” Jared roared.

The team hurried westward toward the dying sun, half sliding down the dusty knoll in their haste. Parked nearby, the jeeps promised sanctuary. He glanced over his shoulder. The villagers stood on the crest of the hill, their faces contorted with rage.

Finally, the unit reached level land. They ran faster. Instead of getting closer, though, the jeeps seemed to fade into the sunset.

A mirage?

The voices were getting closer, and he dropped to the back of the line. Should any of them catch up, they’d have to get through him first.

Just ahead and to his left, something solid struck Mahoney in the back of the head with a sickening crunch. Helmetless, the man dropped like a stone. With barely a pause, Jared lifted Mahoney and tossed him over his shoulder.

They were parked one hundred feet away. Some of the men were climbing into the vehicles while others were already racing their jeeps toward the sunset.

Tossing the unconscious man into the front seat, he then ordered Falcone to step on the gas. As they peeled away, a thump sounded in the back. A knife tore through the canvas, inches away from his position in the tiny backseat.

The knife disappeared, then reemerged between a villager’s teeth. Like the knife, the dark eyes glittered with evil intent. Jared swung, and blood sprayed from the villager’s nose as it collapsed under his closed fist. The knife wielder hung on stubbornly until Jared’s booted foot struck him in the face. He somersaulted from the moving vehicle, his rapid descent creating a crimson arc in the air before he landed in the dust.

He didn’t move again.

Shouts faded into the distance. Gasping, Jared sat and looked down at his bruised, bloodied hands.

His fault. Not his bullet but still his fault.

“Murderer.”

He looked up, startled to hear Mahoney’s voice.

“What did you say?” he whispered. Mahoney’s face, a death mask, stared back at him accusingly.

Falcone turned around, eyes filled with contempt. “He called you a fucking murderer.”

“Killer!”

The other jeeps now surrounded him. Brady, Johansson, Rivera, all of them screaming “Guilty! Murderer! Killer!”

He shouted back, insisting he had no choice, that it could have been much worse.

“Guilty! Murderer! Killer!” The little girl, the old man, and the knife wielder had joined the chorus of hate.

His head exploded in white-hot pain and the twisted faces faded into the quiet darkness.

* * * *

Jared bolted upright in bed, clutching his throat. He sat motionless, willing his pounding heart to resume its usual steady beat. After rolling out of bed, he stood on trembling legs, allowing the sweat to cool on his body.

Just a few silent steps and he was locked in the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and passed a hand over his damp face. His skin felt sticky now that the sweat had almost dried.

Taking a shower was risky, though. Pam might wake up and ask questions.

Better to take a chance on waking her than expose her to the stench of his failure. The military allowed three minutes. He could do it in two.

He slid into bed three minutes later, clean and dry.

She woke instantly. “Jared?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep and touched with alarm.

“Yes, Pam?” he answered in the barest whisper, praying for a temporary reprieve.

“Everything okay?” She curled into him, nuzzling his neck.

“Yes,” he responded, his chest tightening a little with the lie.

“’Kay,” she said, sniffing his skin. “You smell good. Wanna eat you up.”

He perceived rather than saw her face tilt up.

“Kiss me.”

Complying, he rolled over and pressed her soft body into the mattress. As if sensing his need, she parted her thighs in a silent offer. Desperate and hungry for her, he sank deep inside. She was more than ready and he gasped as her liquid heat surrounded him.

Jared lay motionless, his face buried in her neck. Here she was, offering the comfort of her body, no questions asked. He would not take without giving her more in return.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close. After aligning their pelvises, he said, “Hold on tight.”

She complied, twining her arms and legs around him until it seemed every inch of their skin touched.

Jared rocked against her, allowing his pubic bone to rub against her swollen clit. He ground himself into her pussy, his granite-hard cock searching for the place deep inside. He knew he’d found it when she froze in his arms and her back arched in surprise.

Gyrating against her with slow, tender movements, he brushed the sweet spot at every pass. Soon, she came, but he was merciless, rubbing her secret place over and over, never allowing her to come down from the ecstatic climax.

“Please,” she said, her voice a gentle sob.

It took only a few, deep thrusts to send him over. And each time he emptied himself into her, he cried out her name.

Chapter Five

Pamela stirred as soft rays of sunlight peeked through the wooden slats on the bedroom windows. She lay still for a moment, enjoying both the peace and the luxury of satin sheets caressing her naked skin.

She shifted and shivered as the bedclothes slid over her ass, which was still quite tender, thanks to the testosterone-drenched beast sprawled beside her, giving off heat like a human furnace.

She turned her head. Jared lay on his back, his slow breaths and relaxed features indicating deep slumber. He’d kicked off the quilt sometime during the night, so it now covered one muscular leg, allowing her a perfect view of heavy testicles and a partial erection. She stared at his package, riveted. Even semierect, he was impressive. Lucky her. At this, Pam snickered and Jared shifted in his sleep.

She quieted, and he sank back into his dreams. With a sigh of relief, she snuggled into the pillows, taking the opportunity to admire him from head to toe. Without question, he was a handsome man. Everything she had dreamed of. Tall, dark, and a little brooding. But also thoughtful and gentle. Then, recalling the night’s events, she smothered another giggle. Well, most of the time.

Jared certainly had shown another side of his character. It wasn’t a complete surprise, though. Early on, she had detected a core of strength and iron will he tried keeping to himself. Now unleashed, this forceful, intense side both excited and disconcerted her. And although he hadn’t crossed any lines as far as she was concerned, he’d definitely tested her boundaries.

What would her mother think? Pam shuddered at the idea. Sheila Abernathy, an old-school feminist, would undoubtedly be horrified that her daughter—whom she had raised from the cradle to be self-sufficient and strong—would allow any man so much power over her body.

Sexual submission. Banish the thought! That Sheila’s daughter wanted it—no, craved it—could indicate only one thing: a nightmarish regression into the past, an unforgivable capitulation that mocked her beliefs and ran contrary to the teachings that had become her life’s work. Equality. Independence. Personal dignity.

The fact that Pam also believed in such principles would not matter. For Sheila, the path to achieving these ideals was a narrow one. Any digression from that road would be seen as foolhardy at best and disloyal at worst.

Pam bit her lip, troubled at the thought. She had already courted her mother’s disfavor by taking up with a former soldier, and a decorated officer to boot. Sheila didn’t exactly dislike Jared, but his formal military education and traditional upbringing set her teeth on edge. In truth, she tolerated him, something that always bothered Pam, especially after realizing Jared reciprocated her mother’s attitude of pained endurance. But they had always been careful around each other, beyond the occasional digs. Yes, there was an uneasy respect on both sides. Thank goodness for that.

She respected him too. In fact, she’d always been a little in awe of Jared. His good looks had captured her initial interest, yet it was his strong work ethic and razor-sharp focus that won her admiration. These traits had been honed and polished to diamond brightness in that fancy military academy he rarely spoke of.

Why he remained tight-lipped about his training was beyond her, since he’d graduated at the top of his class and been commissioned to serve as a second lieutenant in the US Army before the ink had dried on his diploma.

Although Jared offered scant details about his years as a cadet or his overseas missions, she had never pressed him on the matter. He seemed especially reluctant to speak of his military service, despite leaving of his own volition with an honorable discharge and a higher rank. She’d figured since he was open about other topics, he’d eventually get around to discussing it. He hadn’t, though. She chewed her lip in consternation, wondering why.

And he wasn’t forthcoming about his background either. She’d managed to squeeze a few tidbits out of him in their six months together, though. His roots were Southern, but the family had moved to the Washington, DC, suburbs in his early teens. She knew he had three younger siblings, two brothers in their mid- and late twenties, and a sister who’d just started her freshman year of college.

He spoke of them often, offering hilarious anecdotes of their many pranks and quarrels. Hearing that all four Marlowe siblings had gone on an extended vacation to Europe right before she and Jared met, she’d felt a frisson of jealousy at their closeness, having no siblings of her own.

His relationship with his parents didn’t appear as close. To her, Jared and his folks seemed fond of each other but somewhat distant. After much digging on her end, Jared had disclosed several facts about them. His father was a retired military officer and his mother a homemaker. The Marlowes owned an English Tudor with no mortgage, a little boat, and two nice cars. They went to church every Sunday and gave to the “deserving poor.” Pam envisioned them to be solid middle class, possibly more. A little stuffy but respectable. Or typical bourgeoisie, as her mother would say.

Jared had visited his parents twice since they met. Last time, he traveled home for Christmas while she visited relatives in New Hampshire with her mother. He’d returned earlier than expected, looking tense, but after a couple of days was himself again. Her inquiries regarding his visit had produced nothing more than vague responses.

There were other matters that intrigued her more than his slightly chilly relationship with his parents. Jared had relocated to New York several months before they met with the intention of establishing himself after leaving the military. How he managed to afford this move, along with the starting costs of a new business, was a mystery. However, she had never asked about this because she felt it was none of her business.

And he had never introduced her to his family, something that had started to irk her in the past couple of months.

Talk about parameters and boundaries, she mused, remembering his words from the day before.

Maybe it was time to knock down a few walls surrounding his personal life. Then she could unlock the mystery that Jared still remained in many ways.

* * * *

Jared awakened to the tantalizing aromas of sex combined with a hint of Pam’s floral scent. He reached out and felt cold fingers of anxiety grip him when he found only empty space. Maybe he’d been too fast with her introduction to kink. Perhaps he’d been too effective with suppressing his Dominant side and had shown too much too soon. Now she’d probably run home, confused and disgusted.